The sun., 1887-11-03
McGRATH'S BAD NIGHT.
Youths Companion.

1Outn COmpanlOn.
"Come, then, childer," said Mrs.
McGrath, and took the big iron pot
off. They crowded around her. nine
of them, the eldest not more than
thirteen. the youngest just big enough
to hold out his yellow crockery bowl.
1.-THE youngest first. remarked Mrs.
McGrath, and ladled out portion oi
the boiled cornmeal to each OF the de-
plorable boys and girls. Before they
reached the stools from which they
had sprung up, or squatted again on
the rough floor, taey all burned their
mouths in tasting the mush too eager
ly. Then there they sat, blowing in
to their bowls, glaring into them, lift
ing their loaded iron spoons occasion
ally to taste cautiously, till the mush
had somewhat cooled.
Then, gobble- -de-gobble.de-gobble it
it was all gone! Though they had
neither sugar, nor milk. nor butter to
it, they found it q remarkable excel
lent sample OF mush, and wished only
that, in quantity, it had been some.
thing more.
Peter McGrath sat close beside the
cooking stove holding Number Ten. a
girl-baby. who was asleep and rocking
Number Eleven, who was trying to
wake up, in the low, unpainted wood
en- cradle. He never took his eyes of
Number Eleven; he could not bear to
look around and see the nine devourine
the corn-meal so hungrily. Perhaps
McGrath could not, and certainly he
would nct,-he was so OBSTINATE
have told why he felt SO reproached
by the scene. He had felt very guilty
for many weeks.
Twenty, yes. q hundred, times a
day he looked in dazed way at his
big hands, and they reproached him
too that they had no work.
"Where is our smooth, broad axe
handler" asked the fingers, land why
do not the wide chips f1y?"
He was ashamed too, every time he
rose up, so tall and strong, with moth
ing to do. and eleven children and his
wife next door to starvation, but Il
he had been asked to describe his feel,
ings, he would merely have growled
out angrily something against old
John Pontiac.
you'll take your sup now, Peter?''
asked Mrs. McGrath, Offering him the
biggest of the yellow bowls. He look
ed up then, first at her forlorn face,
then at the pot. Number Nine was
diligently scraping of some streaks ol
mush that had run down the outside;
Numbers Eight, Seven, Six and Five
were looking respectfully into the pot;
Numbers Four, Three, Two and One
were watching the pot, the steaming
bowl, and their father at the same
time. Peter McGrath was very hun
gry.
Ann," he said. "Pll be having mine
after it's cooler"
Mrs. McGrath dipped more than a
third of the bowlful back into the pot.
and ate the rest with much satisfac-
tion. The numerals watched her anx.
iously but resignedly.
"sure It'll be cold entirely, Peter
DEAR" she said, 'tand the warmth is
so comforting. Give me little Norah
now, the darlint! and be after eating
your supper"
She had ladled out the last of the
mush, and the pot was being scraped
inside earnestly by Nine. Eight, Seven
and Six. Peter took the bowl, and
looked at his children.
The earlier number were observing
him with peculiar sympathy, putting
| themselves in his place, as it were
possessing the bowlful in imagination
the others now moved their spoons
absent-mindedly around in the pot
brought them empty to their mouths
mechanically, now and again, sucked
them more or less, and still stared
steadily at their father.
His inner walls felt glued together
| yet indescribably hollow; the smell o.
the mush went up into his nostrils
and pungentIy provoked his palate
| and throat. He was famishing.
'eTroth, then, Mary Ann" he said
"there's no hunger ip me tonight
Sure, l wish the childer wauldn lenyt
me the trouble OF eating it. Come
then, all of ye."
The nine came promptly to hls call
There were just twenty-five large
spoonfuls in the bowl; each child re
ceived two; the remaining four went
to the four youngest. Then the bow
was skilfullv scraped by Number Nine
| after which Number Seven took it
whirled cup of water artfully round
it's interior, and with this put fin.
finish on his meal.
Peter McGra.h then searched
thoughtfully in his trousers pockets
turning their corners up, getting
| pinches of dust out of their remotes1
recssses; he put his blouse pocke,
through a similar process, He found
no pockets in his well-patched over
coat when he took it down, but pu-
sued the dust into it's lining, and sepa
rated it carefully from little dabs o
wool. Then he put the collection In
TO an extremely old, black clay pipe
lifted q coal in with his fingers, and
took his supper.
1t would be absurd to assert that
on this continent, o strong man couli
be so poor as Peter, unless he had don.
something very wrong or very foolish
Peter McGrath was, in truth. out o
work because he had committed ar
Outrage on Economics. He had beer
guilty of the enormous error ofmisun
derstanding, and trying to set oil
naught in his Own person, th 'immuta
BILE law of Supply and Demand.
Tancying that first-class newer il
q timber sbanty had an inalienabls
right to receive ct least thirty dollars
q month, when the Demand was only
strong enough to yield him twenty
two dollars q month, Peter had refns